


Ghost in the Machine

by parabolica (orphan_account)



Category: Eye Candy (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8118079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/parabolica
Summary: In his hi-tech world, even a simple vending machine can get the better of Tommy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/gifts).



Halloween was always a pain in the ass. Regular cops always reckoned they had it worse—in amongst the drunk frat-boy stunts there was always real serious stuff, rape and murder and, on one memorable occasion, an attempt at actual human sacrifice—but to Tommy's mind the stuff that happened out on the streets wasn't half as disturbing as what went on in cyberspace.

For the past few years the Cyber Crimes Unit had dealt with all manner of weird and illegal shit on Halloween, from phone viruses that installed an undeleteable picture of the _Scream_ mask on the user's lock-screen to snuff videos tailored to the buyer's preferences. The latter was run from a site on the dark web that took its inspiration, and most of its back-end code, from Babylon.

The new site was called Nineveh. Someone had a sense of humour. Shame they hadn't gone for a career in stand-up rather than mass murder.

Tommy scrubbed his hands over his face then resumed staring at the computer screen. Mopping up Nineveh was a logistical and jurisdictional nightmare. Even more disheartening was the knowledge that, even as they dismantled the site, the master-freak behind it was no doubt building a second version, and probably a third and fourth version for good measure.

Sometimes human nature sucked.

Yeager came over and dropped a lollipop on the desk. Beneath the cellophane wrapper could be seen the festive green and red of a misshapen zombie face with gouged-out eyes. “Happy Halloween, man.”

Tommy unwrapped the lollipop and crunched off half the head. The sugar rush was almost immediate. What the fuck was in these products these days? Forget cyber crime, they should be investigating candy companies. The buzz faded as he chewed off another bit of zombie face, leaving a sickly saccharine taste on his tongue—which was probably dyed green now.

“I'd say thanks, but I'm not sure I'm grateful,” Tommy said, binning the remains of the lollipop.

“Maybe not, but I sure am.” Yeager's face cracked in a grin. “My nephew gave me a bag of those things. Been trying to get shot of 'em all day. You're the only one fool enough to actually eat the thing.”

Tommy stuck out his tongue. As he thought—bright green.

Yeager laughed. “Taking one for the team.”

“Give me a medal already. 'For conspicuous gallantry'.” Ugh, the after-taste was disgusting. Tommy opened his desk drawer, but he was out of snacks. He grabbed for the large paper cup of Starbucks coffee he'd bought at lunchtime, but that had been more than four hours ago and he'd already drained it of the dregs. He'd finished all the bottled water he usually kept beneath his desk, too. _Crap_.

“If you're thinking of washing away the taste with a nice hot beverage, you're shit out of luck.” Yeager was enjoying this way too much. “Vending machine isn't exactly out of order, but it's headed that way. Gillian ordered a cappuccino and got something that looked like tepid dishwater. When I tried, I got a cup of hot milk rather than a regular espresso.”

“Even a cup of hot milk would be better than the taste currently in my mouth,” Tommy grumbled as he rolled his chair back and shoved to his feet. “Hell, even tepid dishwater would be an improvement. Where did your nephew get those candies?”

“The hell if I know. School, probably. There's always some fund-raising shit going on. I gave him ten dollars for the bag but I'm thinking I paid way above market price.”

Tommy clapped Yeager on the back. “He saw you coming, buddy.”

“At least I didn't eat none of that crap!”

Tommy stuck his now luminous green tongue out at his partner again and sauntered across the office. He wasn't going to give Yeager the satisfaction of seeing him run over to the vending machines and frantically push at every button, desperate for something, anything, to take away the repulsive taste in his mouth.

The machines occupied the space to one side of the door. He looked through the glass-fronted snack machine, wondering if it'd be more sensible to mask the taste of the zombie lollipop with another piece of food. The light glowed seductively from colourful bags of chips of all flavours, glinted from the wrappers of various candy bars, and winked from the health-food bars with their drizzling of yoghurt.

Choices, choices. Tommy considered them all, then moved to stand in front of the beverage machine. The smell of coffee was hard to resist, and unlike the snack machine, whose instructions were printed in minuscule type below the keypad, the drinks machine had an LED display that scrolled across the instructions before exhorting him to _Have a nice day!_

He fished in his pockets and sorted through his change. His glance shifted to a bar of dark chocolate in the snack machine, then he made his decision. A flat white should do the trick.

Tommy punched in the number for his desired beverage, fed the machine the correct amount of coinage, and stood back to wait.

The machine chugged into life. A cup was dispensed, slotting into place on the spill tray. A whirr, a hiss; the scent of hot milk rose to tickle Tommy's nose. A thud-thud, then another hiss. It smelled like coffee. It smelled damn good.

And then the cup exploded.

More correctly, it disintegrated. A stream of white liquid shot out of the machine and drenched Tommy, smacking him directly in the groin and spraying up to soak his shirt. He doubled over, gasping, expecting pain from the scalding milk—only to realise it wasn't hot, merely lukewarm.

Another squirt caught him in the face, then dripped into his open mouth. He tasted milk, warm and unexpectedly sweet.

The next ejaculation was thin and wavering. It still managed to get him in the eye. Tommy swore foully and swung away, conscious of the ruin of his clothes, his jeans wet at the crotch and his shirt plastered to his body, warm white liquid running down his face and dripping from his chin.

A shocked silence held the office immobile, then a susurrus of amusement spread, a swell of laughter that his colleagues were trying to hold back in a show of solidarity. Then someone—it had to be Yeager—guffawed, a sharp, sudden burst of sound, and everyone collapsed into laughter.

Tommy scowled, wiping his face.

A noise behind him. A thud, followed by a thunk, followed by another thud, and another, and another, until it became a deluge, a landslide in miniature that drowned out the laughter, and when at last the landslide stopped, everything was silent.

With some caution, Tommy turned. The vending tray of the snack machine was stuffed full, piled high with all the candy bars and bags of chips; the metal spirals that held each item in place were fully extended and completely empty. The door to the tray was jammed open from the sheer weight of the packets. As he stood staring, a Snickers bar gave way to gravity and fell from the machine to land on the floor with a plop.

Tommy lifted his gaze to the LED display, knowing what he was about to see even before he'd focused on the bright blinking lights rearranging themselves into new words.

_Happy Halloween, Detective Calligan._

“Bubonic,” Tommy murmured.

The display went blank, then three characters scrolled across:

;-)


End file.
